Hate
by RandomRyu
Summary: He hates how he thinks the man that murdered one of his friends in cold blood right in front of his eyes is insanely attractive. Negan/Daryl.
1. Chapter 1

Daryl hates himself. He hates himself for a lot of reasons. A lot of things. The list goes on and on, and it's more than enough things that he can't count on his fingers. He's thought of and done a lot of fucked up shit. They plague his thoughts every single waking second, and he just wants everything to stop.

Right now, he hates how he thinks the man that murdered one of his friends in cold blood right in front of his eyes is insanely attractive.

Whenever he sees Negan, he feels like he's going to throw up. His stomach twists and he feels sick. But at the same time, he can't help but turn red and avoid the man's intense eyes in fear of getting too turned on.

When he drops off the supplies at Negan's compound, he always goes with others. But even when he's around people, he can feel Negan's eyes on him, watching his every move. It's made him falter and drop things more than once, and he's sure that the man knows that it's his fault.

He's never directly addressed Daryl, but he always watches him like a hawk, and the hunter is waiting for Negan to swoop down and catch him in his sharp claws.

One day, after all of the supplies are unloaded, handed over to Negan, they're getting ready to head back to Alexandria when Negan stops Daryl walking in his tracks by holding out Lucille. The barbed wire catches on his button up and scratches his skin lightly. He can still see the blood, bits of brains, and black hairs tangled in the wire, making his stomach lurch and the memory of Glenn getting brutally murdered fresh in his mind.

He gulps loudly, avoiding Negan's icy stare.

"Wait a fuckin' minute there." He doesn't move Lucille out of the way just yet. "Don't you fuckin' leave yet."

"What d'ya want?" Daryl asks, trying to keep his voice level. "We already gave you half'a our supplies."

"I know that." Negan drops Lucille back to his side, and the hunter let's out a long breath that he wasn't aware he was holding. "Wanted to talk to you, is all. One on fucking one."

Negan leans closer, and Daryl is frozen in his spot. He's merely inches from his face. Daryl can feel the man's breath on his cheek.

"You've been real fucking clumsy lately." Daryl mentally slaps himself for the man noticing how he's been fucking up. His pale face starts to turn red, still not looking Negan in the eyes. "Almost broke a whole box of jars the other day. If that would have happened, you would be so fucked up right now. Can't have you breaking my shit. If you break any shit, that means you have to bring more next time. And I don't fucking forget."

Daryl is speechless. He risks looking at the other man, and he's met with intense, deep brown eyes. He feels that if he looks away, he'll be scolded, so he just stares back.

"Cat got your fucking tongue?" He spits, voice rising slightly. The others have already made it to the truck, leaving both men alone in the warehouse.

"Didn't break anything." Daryl can feel his heart beating, feeling fear, but at the same time his clothes feel too stuffy and heat pools just below his navel.

"Not yet," Negan replies instantly. "Not fucking yet. And I insist keeping it that way."

Daryl has to look away now. He can't keep up the eye contact. He blinks, wetting his dry eyes, looking at Negan's shoulder instead of his face.

"You're real fucking quiet today. More quiet than usual." He circles to the other side of Daryl, still too close. He narrows his eyes as he observes the hunter. "Are you blushing? Holy fucking shit, you're all red!"

Daryl turns his head away, wanting nothing more than to turn and run, to leave and go back to Alexandria, home, until they have to bring supplies back again. But he knows that if he runs, he'll only be chased down or dealt with when they come back again.

"I have to go back. They're waiting." Daryl makes up a bullshit excuse. But they really are waiting for him in the truck, and there's no way they aren't suspicious as to why Daryl isn't there yet.

"You go back when I say you can go back." Negan's voice drops, using his free hand to grab Daryl's chin and forcibly turn his head to face him. Daryl shuts his eyes, refusing to look the man right in the face again.

"Let m' go." He shakes his head, trying to get out of Negan's grip. The man just makes his grip tighter, making the hunter wince.

"Not gonna happen." He leans in close, their noses barely touching. "Open your eyes. Fucking look at me."

Daryl does what he's told, only to lock eyes with the dangerous man once again. A full body shiver washes over him.

"I've been watching you. Really fucking closely." He admits, tilting his head to the side slightly, not breaking eye contact. "You act all macho, all tough, but I know you're not as strong as you seem. And I've seen the way you look at your leader, Rick. Bet you fucking wish you were that woman he's with. Wish you were the one he fucks every night, cuddles and shit in the morning."

Daryl breathes heavily through his nose, shame snd anger filling his veins. Negan has no right to know about his personal life, no right to put words in his mouth, even if they are right. His skin is warm, and he's sure Negan can feel how on fire he is. On top of getting aroused by the fucked up man holding him still, he can feel his pants getting a little tighter when he talks about Rick. He really does want to be Rick's instead of Michonne, wants to be the one Rick whispers sweet nothings to while they make love.

"I'm right, aren't I?" Negan laughs. "Am I fucking right?" His voice gets louder.

"Yes." Daryl feels so small under Negan. He feels like the man could crush him if he wanted to.

"That's what I thought." Negan shuffles Daryl backwards until his back hits the wall, cornered. If he had any chance of breaking free and running, it's gone now.

Daryl's breath hitches when he feels Negan's knee against his crotch, going very still.

"What the fuck is this?" Negan laughs loudly, and Daryl feels like he's being mocked. "What's this from? Thinking about your buddy, Rick? Is this my fault? Who the fuck is it?"

Daryl feels like his head in spinning, the whole world muffled and humid as Negan only presses against him, closer, and starts moving his knee just enough to have Daryl squirming.

"B-Both." Daryl whispers, barely audible.

"What the fuck was that? Speak up." The hand that held Daryl's chin in place tangles in his hair.

"Both!" Daryl grits his teeth in frustration, knees weak. His chest rises and falls with every breath.

"Holy shit." Negan laughs again, a loud bellow that echoes through the warehouse. "I can't fucking believe this!"

Daryl is overwhelmed with so many emotions, shame being the loudest. If anyone found out about this he would be terrified of what they would say. They would think he's disgusting. Fucked up.

And it is fucked up, because he actually moans when Negan pulls his hair and grinds his knee against his clothed arousal; biting his lip afterwards to try and keep quiet.

"You know, you're pretty fucking cute," Negan's voice is low, pressed against Daryl's ear as he continues to work at him relentlessly. He pulls Daryl's hair to force him to expose his neck, instantly lavishing it with rough, open-mouthed kisses. He scrapes his teeth across Daryl's flesh, aiming to cover him in dark marks for everyone to see.

The hunter bites his lip so hard he tastes blood in his mouth, shameful noises still escaping his throat as Negan roughly marked him.

"Everyone will know what happened." Negan growls against Daryl's neck. "Everyone will know that you fucked the guy that murdered your precious friend. And you enjoyed it."

Negan throws Lucille aside so he has both hands free, ripping off Daryl's vest and button up, the buttons flying off in different directions. Afterwards, he's against Daryl again, licking and biting the skin all across Daryl's shoulders and chest. Daryl doesn't know where to put his hands, so he keeps them flat against the wall.

"Take everything off." Negan pulls back suddenly, barking the order. "Now."

With shaky hands, Daryl unbuttons his pants and pulls them down along with his underwear, kicking his shoes off in the process.

He stands there, hands at his sides as he's completely bare. Negan whistles, stepping forwards. He doesn't remove any clothing, which makes Daryl even more embarrassed. But he can see Negan's cock through his jeans, and he's already nervous. Even clothed, it looks huge.

"Well, look at you." Negan backs Daryl up against the dirty wall again, smirking. Daryl feels like prey that's about to be slaughtered snd devoured. "Turn around and put your hands against the wall. I want to see all of you."

Daryl swallows his pride and turns around, placing his hands flat against the wall. He hangs his head and waits for anything to happen, waits to be embarrassed.

He feels Negan's hands trace down the sides of his hips, making him shiver. His touch is light before he reaches lower and lower, grabbing Daryl's ass and making the hunter gasp.

"Shit, you sure are a bony motherfucker, but your ass is like a woman's." Negan leans down slightly and pulls apart Daryl's cheeks. "Look at that little hole. Anyone ever fuck your before?"

Daryl shakes his head, keeping his mouth shut.

"I'm the first? Fucking hell. I'm honored," he mocks, pressing his thumb against the opening. He doesn't push in just yet, just presses against it. "Ever been fingered before? Ever do this to yourself?" He threatens to push the finger inside, but he doesn't get far without any lubrication.

"Yes. To myself." Daryl admits. He never told anyone, never talked to anyone about his sex life. Or lack of one, for that matter. He's had fantasies, he has sexual urges, but he never had anyone to carry them out with.

"That's a nice fucking picture. Tough guy like you, all alone, fucking himself on his fingers. Probably pretending it's Rick doing it to you, huh? You'd probably let Rick do anything to you if he asked." Negan suddenly pulls his hands away, leaving Daryl already missing the feeling of the man's hands on him. Whenever he mentions Rick, he can't help but whimper. "Stay here, sweetie. I don't want to hurt you too bad, so I have to get something."

Daryl stays in place as Negan walks away, his gaze falling on Lucille resting on the ground next to him. He could pick it up and bash the murderer over his head when he comes back, could kill him just like he killed Glenn. But he can't bring himself to move. As much he wants to kill the son of a bitch, he wants to be fucked silly by him. Wants to be covered in bruises and hickies and completely ravished by the man.

He hears footsteps and perks up again.

"Stay there. Don't move."

Daryl gets no warning, hears a faint click before something cold is poured right up against his entrance. It makes him shiver, but he stays still nonetheless. Negan's fingers spread it around before pushing one finger inside. Daryl sucks in a breath, trying to get used to the weird feeling. It's always weird to start out, he reminds himself, as the other man moves the finger in and out, not particularly searching for anything yet.

"You're so fucking warm." Negan runs his other hand over Daryl's back, faintly scratching his nails over the thick scars marring Daryl's skin. "Can't believe no one's fucked you before. Look at you. There's no way you'd take the lead, you're so small. So weak. Can't wait to hold you down and make you scream. Hell, we're not the only ones in this place. Anyone could come in right now and see you like this."

Daryl groans as Negan pushes in a second finger, mortified yet insanely turned on by Negan's dirty talk. It's so filthy, but he can't help but get off on it. If this keeps up, he'll cum before the man even fucks him.

"So damn tight, and I only have two fingers in you." Negan's fingering becomes a bit rougher, and he starts to curl them upwards. Daryl arches his back, sticking out his ass even more so Negan can fuck him easier.

The hunter gasps when Negan's fingers press against his sweet spot, his knees buckling. He does his best to keep standing, nails digging into the cement wall.

"There we fucking go," Negan praises him, adding a third finger and stretching him further. He keeps on stroking that one spot, and it has Daryl seeing stars. He's definitely going to cum before Negan fucks him.

"S-Stop," Daryl pants, trying to pull away. "Gonna cum if you.. if you keep doing that."

"Holy shit, already?" Negan pulls his fingers out anyway, wiping them on Daryl's back. "You really are a fucking virgin." A blush spreads over Daryl's shoulders and back.

Daryl takes a moment to breathe before he's ready again.

"I don't have all day, I have things to fucking do," Negan snapped. "Can I fuck you or not?"

"Yeah," Daryl's breathing heavily, voice wavering. He's excited but nervous. Even though his jeans, he saw how big Negan is. He's fucking huge. Even when he fingered himself when he was alone, he could just fit four fingers inside. Even then, he was pushing himself over the limit.

"'Bout fucking time." Negan wastes no time taking himself out of his pants and slicking himself up, pouring more lubricant over Daryl's hole just in case. He slips the bottle into his pocket so he has both hands free.

Negan places one hand on Daryl's hip and with the other, he guides his cock so it's lined up against Daryl's entrance. Daryl takes a deep breath and braces himself as Negan slides in slowly.

He's never been this full before. Even with all of the lube slicking the way, it's still a tight fit. A drawn out gasp is pushed from his lungs and his body jerks as the man pushes in as deep as can. Not only is Negan's cock thick as hell, it's long. Even if the hunter didn't see it yet, he can feel how deep it is inside of him. He didn't see the man put on a condom, but he's too far gone to care at this point.

He has no time to adjust before Negan pulls almost all the way out and slams back in again, making his whole body rock forwards and a loud moan to escape him.

"Don't be quiet." Negan grabs his hips roughly, gripping so tightly that Daryl can already feel the bruises forming. "I want to hear you as I'm fucking you. I want you to scream like a little fucking whore for me until your throat hurts."

Daryl's mouth goes slack and his eyes nearly close as Negan fucks him hard enough to make him nearly fall each time he thrusts, his knees threatening to give out. But Negan holds his whole body up by his hips, keeping him in place. His moans and gasps echo through the warehouse, and any fear of someone walking in and finding them like this is nearly forgotten over the pleasure overwhelming his senses.

"Like a fucking porn star," Negan grunts, watching the way the muscles in Daryl's back flex as he moves.

Daryl doesn't want to totally give in to the man, but be finds himself pushing back into the harsh thrusts, meeting the man halfway. This makes the pounding even more intense, and Daryl feels like he's drooling like an idiot all over the wall.

"Holy fucking shit, you're a needy little bitch." Negan keeps one hand on Daryl's hip and the other goes to pull Daryl's hair, pulling back to expose his marked throat; bite marks prominent on his pale skin. "You say you're a virgin, but you take cock like a fucking slut." He pulls Daryl's hair harder, making the man whimper.

The hunter is all nerves, the dirty talk making him even more worked up; pre-cum leaking from the head of his cock and dripping on the filthy floor. At this rate, he feels like he's going to cum without being touched.

Negan suddenly stops, making Daryl whine at the loss of contact.

"I wanna see your face while you're getting fucked." Negan turns Daryl around, handling him like a rag doll. The hunter is wobbly on his feet, almost falling as he's manhandled. "Careful now. Spread your legs."

Daryl does what he's told, and suddenly, Negan scoops him up and he's hoisted up by his legs; Negan's elbows hooked under the other man's knees. He panics when he's lifted off the ground, but Negan has a strong hold on him, holding him in place.

He wraps his arms around Negan's shoulders as he feels the man push inside of him again, the new angle giving him a different sensation that makes him let out a drawn out whine.

"There ya go," Negan grunts, pulling almost all the way out of the hunter before he slams back into him again. It pushes the air out of Daryl's lungs, bouncing with every thrust; his back getting scratched by the rough texture of the cement wall behind him. There's already bruises in the shape of hands on his bony hips.

Daryl's eyes are closed, mouth slack and face red. Sweat makes his bangs stick to his forehead. All self control or pride is gone, and he's lost in the pleasure, clawing at the back of Negan's leather jacket.

"Fucking look at me." He thrusts even harder, gripping Daryl's ass so hard his blunt nails are digging into the skin.

The hunter opens his eyes, still heavy lidded, to lock eyes with Negan. Again, he's met with intense brown eyes, narrowed with concentration. That sly smirk is still on the man's lips.

"Are you fucking drooling?" He laughs, Daryl instantly biting his already bloody lip, but it doesn't stop the blissful noises from coming out of his mouth. "Holy shit, you're drooling! I know I'm fucking good at this, but no one ever fucking drooled for me while they were being fucked silly."

With the constant filthy talking, the nails digging into the skin of his ass, the man's huge cock fucking him so hard he feels like he's going to break, and the intense eye contact, he can feel his orgasm building. His moans become louder, higher pitched. He throws his head back, wincing as it hits the wall, still maintaining eye contact with the other man.

"S-Shit, shit…" He whimpers, bucking his hips.

"Are you gonna fucking cum without me even touching you?" Negan leans in, their noses touching. Daryl can only nod, delirious as he's rapidly reaching his climax. "Such a filthy fucking slut, gonna cum without me even touching your cock. Didn't even suck you or beat you off before. Just by fucking your ass you're gonna lose it. So come on, fucking cum."

That's what does it for Daryl, his whole body tensing up as he comes across his stomach so hard that he's seeing stars, a choked off scream erupting from him that sounds too close to Negan's name. Negan fucks him even harder, licking and biting at Daryl's exposed, sweat-slicked neck. Daryl's still seeing stars as Negan pushes as deep as he can go inside of the hunter and comes, filling Daryl up.

The two of them stay in that position for a minute, Daryl a shaking mess. There's tears in his eyes as Negan sets him down, wobbling on his feet and gripping the front of Negan's jacket to stay standing. He can feel the man's come leaking down his thighs.

"Jesus fucking Christ." Negan sighs, satisfied. He stuffs himself back into his jeans and buttons them up; Daryl still naked and trembling.

"Get dressed. I have fucking work to do." He steps back, and Daryl almost topples over. He can't find his voice, so be just nods and gathers up his clothes, pulling on his underwear and jeans first. Negan's cum still leaks out of him, but he can't clean himself up at the moment. His button up is ruined, so he has to deal with it being open and showing his marked chest. He pulls on his vest and shoes, and runs his fingers through his tangled, sweaty hair.

"You were a good fuck." Negan picks up Lucille, balancing her on his shoulder. "Wouldn't be against doing it again. But don't expect me to go any easier on you. If you fuck anything up with the supplies, you're fucking dead."

"Won't fuck up no more," Daryl grumbles, voice wrecked. "I have to get back. They're probably worried about me." He's nervous to show up like this, probably going to get questions. He isn't ready for that because he doesn't have answers. But he can't stay here forever.

"Go on. I expect you back next week." With that, Negan walks away, leaving Daryl alone.

The hunter stands there for a few minutes, regaining his strength and coming back to reality. He still feels disoriented as he goes back to the truck and slides into one of the seats.

"Daryl?" Rick's eyes go wide when he sees his friend. "What happened?"

"Nothin'." Daryl avoids Rick's gaze, but he knows the leader is looking at the bruises on his body. "Don' worry about it."

Rick purses his lips and says no more, turning back to the front and starting up the truck.

The ride back to Alexandria is silent.


	2. Chapter 2

"Daryl." Rick corners the man after they get back to Alexandria and park the truck. "What happened?"

Daryl was just about to walk away and go back to his home when Rick stopped him. He huffed and stared at the ground, pulling his button up closed so Rick can't see the bruises and hickies covering his skin. The marks on his neck are still visible, though, and he can feel Rick staring at them.

"I told you. Nothin'," he shakes his head and tries to walk away again. The sweat on his body has dried and he's still sticky between his legs. He just wants to shower and sleep for a while and not think.

But Rick stops him again, holding his arm.

"You're covered in bruises," Rick states bluntly. He doesn't let go of Daryl's arm. "Did he hurt you?" Anger wells up inside of the leader. The thought of the terrifying man throwing Daryl around and beating him makes his blood boil.

"No. He didn't hurt me." Daryl blushes, turning his head away. He can still feel Negan's hands on him, can still feel how he was pressed up against a wall and fucked until he was drooling like an idiot. He can still hear how Negan talked about Rick.

Rick huffs in frustration and let's go of Daryl's arm.

"If he's hurting you I'll do something about it. We all will do something about it. He's already killed one of our own, I don't want to lose you, too."

Daryl's heart races and drops all at one time when he hears the last part. He wants to tell the truth, but he doesn't want to admit how he was overpowered; how he gave in so easily, so willing. The last thing he wanted Rick to know was that he fucked the enemy.

"Rick," Daryl sighs, voice low. "'M fine. Really. Don' worry 'bout me."

He walks away, and this time, Rick lets him.

Daryl takes a long shower.

He washes all the dirt off his skin, all the sweat. It rolls down his body and colors the water by his feet as it goes down the drain. The bite marks on his skin sting when he washes himself, making him grit his teeth and wince. But he continues to wash anyway, wanting to get all the filth off of his body.

He dips two fingers near his entrance, and he can still feel Negan's cum inside of him. He pushes one finger inside and sucks in a breath when he pulls it back out, slick dripping down his thigh. He cleans around his hole the best he can, but even then, he still feels gross.

When he's done washing his hair, he just stands under the stream of water until the hot water runs out and goes cold. Turning off the shower, he steps out and towels off before wrapping the towel around his waist.

He lays back on his bed for a while, just staring at the ceiling.

He can't stop thinking about it. No matter how hard he tries, it just feels so surreal. The things Negan did to him, said to him.

Negan was his first time.

That part fucks him up the most.

He thought that his first time would be with someone he loved, or at least someone that would be more gentle and kind. Someone that would treat him right and whisper sweet nothings into his ear while they caressed him all over. That would take their time and worship him instead of going right into the act.

But no matter how much it fucks him up, he can't deny that he liked it.

He liked the way that Negan marked his skin and pulled his hair. How he wouldn't shut the fuck up and growl dirty, dirty things into his ear while he took him roughly. The way he gripped his hips so hard that he left bruises in the shape of his hands that hurt when Daryl pressed on them. And even if the aftermath is kinda gross, the feeling of Negan pushing so deep inside of him and letting loose makes him shiver at the memory.

He hates how his skin starts to warm and his heart starts to race. Hates how his body starts to react to the filthy thoughts that happened not even two hours before. Hates how he traces down his body and wraps his hand around himself, biting back a lewd moan as he strokes himself. His other hand pulls at the sheets, wet hair fanning out on the pillow as he turns.

He already wants to do more with the sinister man. He wants Negan to hold him down, to bind his hands and make him beg for it. He's never sucked cock before, and even if Negan is huge and intimidating, he wants to do it. He wants to feel Negan on his tongue and down his throat, wants the man to use him like a toy and nothing more, just a fuck hole. Wants to taste Negan's cum, wants the man to make him swallow it as he fills his mouth.

The thought of Negan fucking his mouth and coming down his throat is what gets him, and he comes over his fist with a choked off cry.

He lays there for a few minutes just breathing. It takes him a while to come back to reality, but once he's back, the cum on his hand is cooling and he feels disgusted. Disgusted with the drying cum and disgusted with how he just got off to the memory of their group's enemy holding him down and having their way with him.

He takes another long shower. He scrubs himself under the cold water, having used up all the hot. No matter how much he cleans himself, he can't get rid of the shame.

After Rick tries to pry what happened with Negan out of Daryl and failed, he goes back to his house. He wants to pry more, wants to find out what really happened between the two of them, but he knows that Daryl isn't one to tell things to people, even if he's so close with Rick. After Rick got with Michonne, Daryl's been more distant, only interacting with Rick when he really needed to. If he was secretive before, he's even moreso now that he's jealous of Michonne.

Rick goes inside and plops down on the couch, letting out a long sigh.

Just when things were starting to get better, everything goes to shit. With the walker invasion, with Carl losing his eye, and with Negan capturing his group and killing Glenn brutally in front of them for all to see. This always happens, he thinks. Everything always goes back to hell and there's nothing he can do to stop it. With Negan now taking half of their supplies every week, it's getting harder to feed and arm everyone. People have to skip meals and live on measly, stale granola bars. Most of the canned food goes over to Negan. Guns and bullets, half over to Negan. Their ammo is dwindling fast since it isn't so easy to find, and Rick is slowly wearing down.

And now, Daryl comes back with bruises all over his body after spending one on one time with the big man himself; Negan. Rick tries to think of what the hell could have happened between them.

Dary's shirt was torn, all the buttons gone. Bruises and bite marks covered his shoulders and neck. Rick still doesn't believe he saw bite marks. He doesn't want to believe he saw them. The hunter's eyes were red and puffy, cheeks still burning red from embarrassment; his hair a huge tangle.

An idea pops into his head, but he pushes it away and denies it.

There's no way Daryl would have slept with the enemy. Rick knows Daryl, knows he'd never do such a thing. At least he hoped Daryl would never do such a thing.

He never saw Daryl as a sexual being, if he was honest with himself. Of course, he thought the man was attractive sometimes, but he never saw Daryl express anything sexual. That, or he kept it very secretive.

"You okay?" Michonne interrupts Rick's thoughts, snapping him back to reality.

"Daryl is hurt," Is all he can say, fidgeting with his hands.

"What happened?" She sits down next to him, placing her hand on his thigh for comfort.

"Back at Negan's, we were unloading all the supplies. When we went back to the truck, he stayed behind. Saw him talkin' to Negan. Went to the truck with everyone else, so I didn't see what else happened." He worried his bottom lip between his teeth. "When he came back to the truck, his shirt was torn open, bruises all over the top half of his body. I swear I saw teeth marks."

Michonne thinks it over for a second, taking all the information in. She takes Rick's hand in her's, squeezing it try and calm Rick down. She can see the beginnings of panic in his bright blue eyes.

"Jesus," She cursed under her breath. "This happen at all before?"

"Nah. He looked fine the first few times we dropped things off," Rick explained, trying his hardest to think about the few other times they've traveled to Negan's compound. "Always seemed a little on edge, though."

"Are you going to do anything about this?" She asks. She's concerned herself, but she knows that Rick isn't very smart when it comes to making thought out decisions. He's the leader, yes, but he can act on impulse and make things spin even more out of control. In the past it's happened too many times, and only once did Michonne shut him down before he could do something drastic.

"Negan is dangerous," Rick sucks in a breath. "We can't just attack him. He has hundreds of people backing him up. They'd kill us easily."

He pauses for a minute, both of them thinking the situation over.

"Daryl can handle himself," Rick says, mostly to himself. He knows the man can crumble at times, but he wants to believe that the hunter can handle himself on his own when faced with a rough situation. But to a powerful man like Negan, it's not an easy decision to make if they want to make a move against the man. "He'd come to me if he really needed help."

Michonne nods in agreement, placing a kiss on Rick's cheek before cuddling up to him in silence.


	3. Chapter 3

The next week comes around, and it's time to drop off more supplies at Negan's compound. As usual, many people help with packing everything onto the truck, and Rick and Daryl hop into the front. There's not much room in the front, but there's a little space behind the two seats where two other people can fit, and they do their best to pack in there. They feel better bringing more people when they go to Negan's compound, just in case things get hairy. Of course, Negan could still overpower them easily with his hundreds of minions. But they still feel better bringing as many people as they can along.

Rick drives, and Daryl takes the passenger seat. Abraham and Tara take the back, having volunteered to go along with the other two this week. They shift who comes along every week and sits in the back.

The ride there is quiet, only a few words passed between the four of them on the way there. There's no music since Rick doesn't want to waste the gas in the truck. So they sit there, trapped in their own suffocating thoughts.

Rick pulls up to the compound and parks, the back of the truck facing a big opening in the building. All four of them climb out of the car, Abraham and Tara stretching, feeling sore from having to crouch in the back.

"There you are." As expected, Negan is waiting for them. He's always waiting for them when they pull up, not one to waste his or anybody else's time. "Got all the shit for me?"

"We have all that we can give," Rick explains, pulling up the back of the truck to reveal stacks of supplies from canned food to medicine.

Daryl stands off to the side, gaze on the ground. He can feel Negan staring at him, and he can feel his face heating up.

"Go on, unpack all of it. I don't have all fucking day," He orders, leaning against the wall. He holds Lucille in his right hand, balancing her on his shoulder. No matter how many times Rick or any of his group sees the deadly bat, they can't shake the image of Glenn's brains splattered in the dirt.

They unload the supplies as fast as they can, but it still takes a good amount of time. They don't want to break anything. That's the last thing they need, Negan on their ass for damaging the goods and asking for even more the next time around.

Daryl hasn't looked at Negan once since they arrived. He focuses on moving boxes, but he can still feel the man staring a hole into him, watching his every move. He can feel him staring at the marks still marring his neck, how they're turning a sickly yellow and purple, the indents of teeth gone but blood still right under the skin.

He feels like Negan is going to corner him again. He doesn't know how he feels about it, mixed emotions making his head spin. On one hand, he wants to leave without looking at the sinister man, avoiding all contact with him. But on the other hand, he wants to be pulled aside so they're both alone together. He wants Negan to rip off his shirt again, wants him to further mark his skin and claim him; make him scream until his throat his hoarse and voice is worn out. The thought makes him excited, and he shifts awkwardly as they unload the last few boxes.

"That's all of it," Rick says as he puts down the last box, wiping his hands together to rid them of a layer of dust.

Negan looks over all of the supplies laid out on the floor, judging the amount of everything. The other four wait in fear as he observes them, tapping his foot.

"You're a little short this time," He finally speaks.

"This is half of what we have," Rick states honestly. "We're struggling. It's not easy to scavenge food, medicine...anything. We have a whole community to feed, to take care of."

Negan side eyes him, taking note of his desperate, truthful tone. Just like when he had Rick kneeling in line on the night he murdered Glenn, he sees fear in the man's eyes.

"Try to get more by next week." Negan swings Lucille down to balance the tip of the bat on the floor. There's no sympathy in his voice. "Or else I'll have to make a visit to Alexandria myself."

All four of them pause at that threat, but Rick nods.

"Please. We'll do our best." He looks around at the other three, seeing how nervous they are, just like himself.

"Now, go." Negan shoos them away, nodding in the opposite direction of them. "I have shit to do."

They all turn around and start to make their way back to the truck, and Daryl lets out a sigh of relief, thinking he's off the hook for now.

"You. Stay back," Negan says, loud enough for only Daryl to hear. Daryl stops dead in his tracks, freezing up. He turns around slowly, still unable to look the man in the eye, focusing on the space right above Negan's shoulder instead. He looks back to see Rick staring back at them as he walks away. Daryl shakes his head, motioning for Rick to keep on walking, and after a long, concerned stare, Rick turns back around and heads to the truck.

"I'm still keeping my eye on you," Negan leans in staring directly at Daryl. The hunter still doesn't look at him directly. "Bet your buddies noticed your neck, huh? Did they ask any questions? Hm?"

"Yes," Daryl mutters, hands in fists at his side. He can't help but get aroused being so close to the man, being singled out. "They have. They're worried."

"And what did you tell them?" Negan pushes, tappings his foot on the ground.

"Told 'em not to worry."

"But they'll still worry, of course," Negan laughs. "Probably planning to fucking kill me if I keep hurting you. Probably think I'm fucking you up, but in reality, I fucked you and you enjoyed every last minute of it. Didn't you?"

Negan's gaze burns Daryl's skin. He wants to turn around and run, but he feels glued to the spot.

"I did," Daryl admits, pale face as red as a tomato. Usually someone to stick up for himself, he feels so powerless around Negan. He feels so small, so useless. He knows that if he does anything wrong or fucks up in any way he'll be dead before he can say a word, either by being killed by Negan himself or one of his followers. Or both. He doesn't want to think about that, because the thought is genuinely terrifying.

"Oh, I could tell that you did. Moaning like a fucking bitch in heat, you were," Negan whistles. Daryl can feel himself getting excited again, pressing his thighs together like it'll change anything. His nails dig into his jeans, and he bites back a moan as Negan's free hand goes up to run its fingers through his hair.

"Excited already?" Daryl hates that he points it out, but at the same time, he wanted the man to notice. Wanted him to notice so he could touch him again, make him feel something again other than numbness and pain. "Just by being around me, you're ready to fuck again? Didn't know I had that strong of an impact. Good to know." He continues to pet Daryl's hair, the hunter leaning into the touch like a cat begging for attention. His eyes are lidded and mouth slightly open, mind already hazy and blurred.

"Come with me. Don't want your friends bothering us. I'm sure they'll wait for you." Negan starts to walk away, and Daryl follows close behind. The compound is full of twists and turns. It's a huge maze, but Daryl tries to make sense of it. Yes, he's following Negan just because he wants to be touched again, but at the same time, he tries to map out the place and try and remember little things about it just in case worse comes to worse and his group has to do something drastic. He hopes that it doesn't come to that, because Negan is a powerful man with many, many loyal followers that would kill anyone at a snap of the big man's fingers. He could kill all of them so easily. The thought makes Daryl shake, and he's aroused and terrified all at once, such conflicting emotions fighting against each other so hard it's making his head hurt.

After many twists and turns, Negan finally leads him into a room with a bed. It's not just a bed, it's a queen sized bed covered in what looks to be lavender silk sheets and pillows, not a wrinkle in sight. Loveseats are in the corners of the room, and multiple women are draped over the seats and bed doing their own thing. A few of them are reading, one of them is taking a nap, and another one just sits there and stares at nothing. All of them are pretty, hair cascading over their thin shoulders and even wearing makeup. How they even got a hold of makeup Daryl doesn't know, but they all look beautiful.

"Alright, ladies. Me and Daryl need some alone time, so go hang out in another room for a while, okay?" He talks to them softer, not in his usual booming voice. He obviously cares for these women, because as they file out, he gives each of them a kiss.

"Who are they?" Daryl asks, confused.

"My wives." Negan puts simply, closing the door behind them once all of the ladies are out and both men step inside. He props Lucille up against the bedside table before he sits down on the fancy bed. Daryl wants to question him further, but he can't find anything to ask. So he keeps his mouth shut. "Come on, I don't have all fucking day. Get over here."

Daryl walks over and then stops, just standing in front of Negan. He doesn't know what to do or what he's supposed to do, so he just stands there and waits for an order like an idiot.

"What are you just standing there for? Get on your fucking knees," Negan barks, and Daryl drops to his knees right away. He goes down too fast, because his knees hit the hard floor and he winces at the pain that shoots up his legs.

"You ever suck cock before?" Negan asks, hands already going down to his fly.

"No," Daryl answers. But he knows he's going to now. "Thought about it. Never did it before."

"Well, there's a first time for everything," Negan grins as he takes himself out of his pants, holding himself in his hand. He's still huge, and now that Daryl is face to face with the man's cock, he can see how big he really is. The hunter's amazed that he could take that up the ass without getting hurt. "I'm sure you have an idea of what to do, so get fucking to it."

Daryl takes a deep breath, putting his hands on Negan's clothed thighs. He takes one hand and wraps it around Negan's dick, holding the girth in his hand. It's weird, because the only dick he's touched has only been his own, so feeling Negan's in his hand is different. But he likes it. Just beginning to slowly move his hand up and down, his heart races and he's completely hard in his jeans. But he doesn't focus on himself right now and puts all his concentration into the task at hand.

"You have any idea what to fucking do?" Negan spits, and Daryl flinches.

"Yeah," Daryl mutters. He knows what to do, he's seen enough porn. Obviously porn is different than real life, but at least he has something to go off of. In porn, they make it look so easy to deepthroat a cock, but he has a feeling that he's going to have a difficult time doing that. He has a gag reflex, of course, but he can control it if he tries hard enough. "I know what to do. Jus' never did it before. You're… huge."

"Well, thanks," Negan laughs at the compliment. "But get to fucking work."

Daryl takes another deep breath, still moving his hand up and down, but he takes a moment to spit on his palm before going back to it to ease the way. It slides across Negan's flesh much easier, and it must feel good for Negan, too, because he groans.

The hunter swallows, leaning forward to take the head of Negan's cock in his mouth. It's a musky taste, different but not totally unpleasant. He wasn't expecting anything sweet or nice tasting, but it's not terrible. He still has to get used to it.

He swirls his tongue around the head before trying to get more of Negan's cock in his mouth, his lips stretching around the girth. He gets nearly halfway down when he gags, pulling back suddenly.

"If you fucking vomit on me, you're gonna regret it," Negan warns, and Daryl shakes his head rapidly.

"I got it, I got it," Daryl reassures him, and goes right back to his job.

He once again seals his lips around the head, moving down slowly, taking his time as Negan goes further and further into his mouth and down his throat. He feels like he's going to gag, but he puts all his concentration on not doing that, feeling Negan go so far down his throat that he's surprised he's gotten that far. His nose is nearly pressing against Negan's crotch.

"Holy shit," Negan curses, letting out a shaky breath. "Look at you go." He runs his fingers through Daryl's hair, taking a hold of the sweaty strands. He doesn't pull or push just yet, just holding Daryl's head there. If the hunter was to pull back, Negan wouldn't stop him.

Daryl swallows around Negan's cock, his throat flexing. He still feels like he's going to gag, but he's still concentrating as hard as he can not to. It's working, because the way he's pulsing around Negan's member has Negan breathing heavily. He can hear the man nearly panting, his grip tightening in Daryl's hair.

The hunter pulls back, all the way off, and takes a gulp of air. Spit drips from Negan's dick and from the corners of Daryl's mouth, and Negan wants turn burn that image into his memory forever. Daryl is red faced, eyes watering, but he's definitely not upset. He's rock hard in his jeans, and he still wants to touch himself, but he's so light headed and focused on sucking off Negan that he doesn't care about himself right now. He just wants to get the powerful man off and feel him coming down his throat. Or, on his face, if that's what Negan wants. He has a feeling that this won't be the last time they do this sort of thing, or at least he hopes, because he's enjoying it too much so far. It's only his first time sucking cock, and he's already addicted to the whole experience.

He dives back in, swallowing down Negan's cock and bobbing his head, eyes closed as he does so. His hands rest on Negan's thick thighs, fingernails digging into the fabric of the man's jeans. Negan's hand in Daryl's hair begins to guide him back and forth, making Daryl moan around Negan's dick. The vibration from the moan makes Negan himself grunt, eyes closing and head tipping back as he gets lost in the pleasure.

Daryl's mouth starts to get tired already, but it doesn't stop him. He wants to make the man moan again, because whenever Negan groans, Daryl can feel his cock twitch.

He has to come up for air here and there, and more spit hangs off his lips every time. It slicks Negan's cock and makes it shiny, and Daryl wishes that he could have it in his ass again. But right now, he wants to feel Negan in his mouth.

"Fucking hell," Negan groans as Daryl goes back down again, slowly bobbing his head. He uses his tongue to lick up the underside and swirl around the head when he pulls back, and the sensations make Negan's heart beat faster and faster. He can feel himself reaching his climax, and as he gets closer, his grip on Daryl's hair gets tighter.

"When I cum, I want you to fucking swallow it," Negan grunts, pulling Daryl's head back and fourth a bit roughly now. Daryl gags a little bit, but he takes it well, letting Negan use his mouth as he pleases. He moans in response, finally reaching down and pulling himself out of his pants and beginning to stroke himself. He's not going to last long.

After a few moments, Negan pulls Daryl so close that his nose is against his crotch, and he comes down his throat. Daryl whimpers, frantically swallowing around Negan's length to keep from gagging. He strokes himself quickly, and a few seconds later, he's coming on the floor, moaning around Negan's cock.

Negan pulls Daryl off of him, and Daryl's breathing in big gulps of air. He did swallow most of the cum, but some of it leaks down his chin mixed with spit, and he looks utterly debauched. Eyes lidded, cum leaking from his mouth and down his lips and chin, hair an absolute mess and tears streaking down his red cheeks. Now that's an image Negan wants to remember. He wishes he had a camera to take an actual picture, making a mental note to see if he can find a camera anywhere if it's even possible to use one anymore.

"Holy shit," Negan chuckles. "You're better than I thought you'd be. You deepthroat like a pro." He pulls his hand away from Daryl's hair and stuffs himself back into his pants like nothing ever happened. Besides from the sweat making his hair a little shiny, he still looks presentable. Daryl, on the other hand, looks like a mess.

"Did you cum on the floor?" Negan snaps, seeing that Daryl is still holding himself in his hand. "Fuck. Clean it up." He orders, and Daryl wonders how he could. But then he realizes how, and he gets a rush of embarrassment mixed with lust.

He whimpers and leans down to lick up his cum on the carpet. It's gross, and it's probably dirty as hell, but he can't help the way his heart beats like a hummingbird's and he's turned on even if he just came.

When he's finished, he sits back up. Negan looks satisfied, smirking in his spot on the edge of the bed.

"Good job. Now fucking get yourself together." He gets up, grabbing Lucille from the nightstand and walking over to the door. Daryl puts himself back in his pants with shaky hands, running his fingers through his knotted hair and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stands up and his legs feel like jelly.

"I'll lead you back. You'll probably get lost in your own." Negan opens the door and leaves, and Daryl follows close behind. Even in his delirious state, he still tries to map out the place and remember the twists and turns of the halls. It's not easy, but he tries his best.

They make it back to where they unloaded the supplies, and Daryl goes to leave.

"See you next week," Negan grins, waving goodbye. He looks so smug, and Daryl wants to slap the cocky look off his face but at the same time he can't stop staring at the man, attracted to him so bad it's unhealthy.

"Next week," Daryl repeats, finally walking away. He dreads going back to the truck and seeing all of them stare at him and wonder where he was, no doubt worrying about him the entire time.

When he hops back into the truck, everyone is quiet. He can feel Rick staring at him with a concerned expression, can feel how uneasy everyone feels.

"Let's go," Daryl breaks the silence, unable to look any of them in the eye. "We gotta get back."

Rick sighs and turns to the wheel, carefully backing up the truck to leave.

The ride back is mostly quiet, save Tara and Abraham having an irrelevant conversation in the back, no doubt to break the awkward silence.


	4. Chapter 4

This isn't a very long chapter, I apologize. I have few loose ideas of how to go on with the story, but I have a really hard time getting things down. ;; But anyway, take this for now!

When they get back, Daryl instantly leaves the truck and goes off to his own house before Rick can catch him to talk to him. Rick watches him leave from the truck and sighs, making a mental note to go to the man's house later and try to talk to him again. The concern he's been feeling the past week has festered, and now he can't hold his tongue anymore. He wants to know what's going on and why Daryl is acting so weird. He has an idea of what could have happened, but he doesn't like to think about it. It makes him want to kill Negan, the son of a bitch, and watch him bleed out slowly on the floor.

When Daryl gets back to his house, he takes another long shower. He once again uses up all the hot water, ending up standing under a cold stream. But he didn't turn it off just yet, standing there and thinking about what he's done.

He obviously enjoyed it. He can't deny that fact. He can't deny that he's probably going to get off on it again later. And probably again another time. But at the same time he still feels filthy, and scrubs his skin until it's pink and lets the cold water make his skin sting.

It's dark when he gets out of the shower and dries himself off, slipping back into his usual clothes. He doesn't really have any pajamas, feeling safer in his usual clothing; jeans, a flannel with the sleeves torn off, and his vest. Sure, he has to wash them now, since he has access to something to actually wash his clothes with, but he still forgets about it and it starts to smell after a few days. Same goes for his personal hygiene- he showered after the Negan encounters because he felt so dirty, but usually, he goes a few days without a shower, or until Carol tells him that he smells disgusting.

He sits there on the bed, again, just staring at the ceiling. He can't help but overthink everything.

He knows that Rick wants to talk to him. He knows that he's worried about what's happening. But Daryl doesn't want to talk about it, doesn't want a confrontation to lay everything that's happening out on the table and pick it apart piece by piece. That's the last thing he wants, and he'd rather die than talk about what's happening between him and Negan.

But it has to come up sometime, but anytime is the wrong time.

So he just groans and buries his head in the pillows and tries to sleep.

The sun streams through the window in lines, hitting Daryl's back. He lays there on his side, staring at the wall like he has done for the past five hours.

He didn't get a wink of sleep.

He can feel the exhaustion in his bones, making him feel heavy. When he sits up and stretches, he can feel his spine crack. The feeling is nice, though, but his limbs still feel too heavy and lethargic, dragging himself to his feet and rubbing his eyes. There's dark bags under his eyes, but there always is. Ever since he was a child, he's had prominent bags under his eyes, always looking tired. Now, it just makes him look older.

He doesn't want to get up and face the day. He doesn't want to see anyone else. He just wants to lay on his bed, alone, for once. Usually he has to make himself busy, go hunting or something, but now, he just wants to lay here and rot. Do anything other than see other people.

But he has to get up, or else everyone will be even more suspicious.

So he sighs and slips on his shoes, tying the knots tight before trudging out of his bedroom and out of the house.

The early morning sun is just shining through the clouds, and he has to shield his eyes from the rays. The crisp autumn air chills his skin, but the sun shines down hard, making him squint his eyes and look down.

There's a few people out and about this early, but it's mainly the people on the walls keeping watch and those walking around the perimeter to make sure the walls are still standing. They stand there with their powerful guns, watching into the distance for any movement or cars, ready to attack at any moment. They look exhausted themselves. Hell, everyone is exhausted in the apocalypse. It's almost impossible to get sleep with everything happening around them all the time.

He can't have his crossbow when inside the walls, and he feels naked and vulnerable. He can have a knife, but not a gun or his crossbow. It's for the very best, but he still feels anxious without it.

He sits on the front porch against the railing, knees pulled up to his chest. He wraps his arms around his knees and sighs, staring off into the distance.

Now that they're in a safe zone (or at least it's called that, he has his doubts), they all have a lot of free time to do whatever they want. They've haven't had down time in years since the apocalypse hit. It was all about surviving day to day, and it still is, but now that have shelter, food, and weapons with no need to go hunting all that often or have people keep watch right by them when they're sleeping. They have their own houses. They have their own showers, their own beds. It's almost like it's normal again, but when the walkers come banging on the walls, trying to get in, reality sets back in and has everyone alert again. Daryl is always on alert, even when he's in his own home, because you never know when trouble will strike. He doesn't have his crossbow, yes, but he does have his knife, and he can work with that if he has to. And he has to.

A woman walks by with her dog, and another man walks by with a child, taking a walk. It's weird to see other children other than Carl or Judith, but it's something he'll have to get used to. They have school, now. Daryl can't even keep track of the days of the week or what month it is, yet these people have a school set up like there isn't living corpses right outside the walls ready to come in and devour them alive.

He snaps out of his thoughts when he hears Rick's voice. He can hear Michonne's, too, and she's laughing. Rick probably made a stupid joke. He can't help the twist of jealousy in his gut. Negan was right, he wants to be Michonne. He wants to be the one that Rick goes to sleep with at night, cuddling, only to wake up in the morning still wrapped up in his arms. He wants those meaningful glances and slow kisses. But he also thinks of Michonne as a friend. She's been with the group since basically the beginning, and she contributed just as much as anyone else. She's saved their asses multiple times. He respects her, and because he respects her, he would never make a move on Rick or go between the two of them. That, and he doesn't want to cause more trouble, there is already enough.

He catches Rick looking over at him, and Daryl instantly looks away. But he can still feel Rick's gaze on him.

When he looks up a few minutes later, the two of them had passed by, leaving him alone again. Alone with his stupid thoughts.

* * *

The days goes slowly. Nothing exciting happens, which is a good thing. Rick's group is used to conflict 24/7, so having down time isn't something they're used to. It gets boring, but they prefer it to having to be alert every single waking moment outside of the walls with no shelter and wondering if they'll even find anything to eat. Rick and Michonne have jobs, and a few others in the group take watch in shifts at the front gate. But Daryl doesn't have a job, so he has all this time to himself. He's not one to seek out conversation. He hates sharing things about himself, internalizes everything. It's not healthy, and it'll most likely blow up sooner or later, but ever since he was a kid, he's learned to keep things to himself as of to not cause any trouble.

Carl's found friends, Rick and Michonne found comfort in each other, and Carol has become sort of a mother figure in the community, occupying herself with things like baking and making casseroles, putting on a cheery front. Daryl knows that it isn't all true. With all she's been through, there's no way she's holding up this well. He worries for her, but like everything else, he keeps his thoughts to himself.

Everyone seems to have something to occupy themselves, but Daryl hasn't found his distraction yet. They've been in Alexandria for a while now, but he somehow finds himself missing outside the walls. He sometimes goes outside the walls on his own to hunt, even if there's a good amount of food inside the walls. Hunting puts him at a sort of ease and relieves any stress he's feeling. Plus, he gets a meal out of it if he finds anything.

He hasn't spoken to Rick in a few days, and it's weird. Usually they have a least a moment if interaction, even if it's just to say hello or check in to see how each other is holding up. But the past few days- virtually nothing. Maybe they shared a glance or two, but that's pretty much it. Even with a glance, he can tell Rick's concern is growing. He wants to talk about it, Daryl can tell, he wants to figure out what's going on so he can resolve the problem. And by resolve the problem, that probably means that Rick's going to end up killing someone. They already took out so many of Negan's men, and they know where that landed them. Going to attack the big man himself would be so much worse. He has hundreds of people on his side ready to fight and protect him at a moment's notice, and their only intent is to kill.

Daryl hasn't spoken to anyone else, really, for that matter. That's a little more usual, though. Again, not one to seek out conversation. That's just the way he is. He can tell the others are starting to get concerned, though, because he can feel their gaze on him as they walk past. Now that the bruises on Daryl's neck faded, the looks aren't as frequent. Even so, he can still feel the tension building between all of them, and it's bound to break soon. Very soon.

* * *

"Daryl." Rick catches the hunter on the street a few days later, when the sun is starting to disappear on the horizon, casting shades of pink and orange over everything in sight. Daryl ignores Rick and keeps on walking like nothing happened, wanting to avoid confrontation. It's a childish thing to do, but he doesn't know what else he could do.

"Daryl!" Rick starts to get frustrated, following closely behind Daryl. He reaches out and gets a tight grip on Daryl's arm, stopping him from walking any further.

"What?" Daryl avoids Rick's intense gaze, instead staring at the ground. He shakes Rick's hand off of his arm roughly, refusing to turn around.

"We have to talk."

"About?"

Rick makes a noise of annoyance.

"You know what we have to talk about," Rick says, wanting to get to the point. He knows that Daryl is evasive of anything serious involving him, but that doesn't stop the Sheriff from trying to pry it out of the hunter.

"Nothin'. We have nothin' to talk about," Daryl speaks in an angry whisper. He starts to walk forwards again, but this time, Rick goes in front of him, taking a hold of his arm again. This time, the grip is tighter.

"Daryl, what the fuck is going on with Negan?" He asks, straightforward. Daryl continues to avoid looking into Rick's eyes, but he can feel Rick's gaze burning through him.

"Rick, it's nothin'." Daryl refuses to admit there's anything going on. The more he denies it, he can feel the anger radiating from Rick.

"Daryl," Rick's voice hardens, gets completely serious. He speaks in an almost-whisper. "There's obviously something going on. We go to drop things off, you're gone for almost an hour for TWO times now, and you come back with bruises and ripped clothes. There's obviously something going on, because from what I've been seeing, that's not nothing."

"I can handle it," Daryl defends himself. He doesn't shake Rick's grip off of his arm this time, because he knows that if he tries to get away again, Rick will just keep stopping him. And even if he does get away, he knows Rick will find him later and corner him, no matter how many times he escapes.

Rick takes a deep breath through his nose.

"He's dangerous," Rick starts, trying to find the correct words. "He didn't hesitate to kill Glenn, and he won't hesitate to kill any of the rest of us, either. He's powerful, and as much as I hate it, we have to follow his orders or else we'll lose another one of us. And I'm sure both of us don't want that. And I don't want to lose you. None of us do."

Daryl keeps his mouth shut. He doesn't know what to say in response. He feels his heart beat faster in his chest, and he hates how _I don't want to lose you_ echoes in his mind over and over again.

"Please. Something is going on." Rick sounds desperate. "If he's...doing things to you, hurting you, we have to do something about it. We'd all take the risk for you. I don't want to stand by while this shit is happening."

Daryl sighs, but he doesn't make a sound.

"Daryl." Rick's voice gets softer. Daryl's face scrunches up, and he doesn't know if he's going to cry or not. He's not one to cry, ever since he hit puberty he's been told to stop crying, to stop being weak, by both his father and his brother. And whenever he'd cry at home as a kid, nothing good would come out of it. He would only come out with more mental and physical scars to add to the collection. "Daryl, what is he doing to you? Is he…" Rick can't bring himself to say the ugly word, but Daryl knows what he's getting at. He doesn't have to say it.

"No." Daryl finally speaks, and he's so quiet that it's barely audible.

"What?" Rick leans in, wondering if he heard him right.

"No, he's not raping me."

"Then what's going on, Daryl? What is he doing to you, what would you call it?" Daryl can tell that Rick is getting angry. He steps forward and their faces are so close, noses almost touching. He can see the fire in Rick's eyes, but he doesn't know exactly where his anger is directed.

Daryl takes a long, deep breath through his nose to try and steady himself. He can't lie anymore. There's no way that he can make up a bullshit excuse and have the whole problem be solved with no lasting conflict. He doesn't want to tell the humiliating truth, but he has no other choice.

"He fucked me, okay!" Daryl can't help the way his voice rises in volume, staring Rick right in the eyes as he confesses. "He fucked me and I enjoyed it. Is that what you want to hear, Rick? Is that what you want to hear?"

Hearing the truth from Daryl himself makes Rick finally step back with a mixture of shock and betrayal written all over his features. For a few agonizing moments he just stares at Daryl with wide eyes in disbelief. His mouth is open, and he's trying to form coherent words, but nothing is coming out clearly.

"He killed Glenn," Rick whispers, and Daryl feels his heart drop. "How can you do something like this knowing that he murdered one of our own in cold blood right in front of us? What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rick narrows his eyes, tears making them shiny, threatening to spill over. Daryl can't look at him any longer, his gaze turning back down to the ground once again. He can't find anything to say to make this any better.

"What if Maggie found out about this?" Rick still speaks in a hushed whisper, trying not to make a scene like he always does. God knows what the rest of the group would think or do if they found out about this. "Daryl, he could easily just kill you, too. After he's had his...fun, he'll just kill you like everyone else that doesn't benefit him anymore." Any guilt that he felt before has increased to an almost crippling level. He feels tears well up in his eyes as well, wanting to cry and scream at the same time. But he bites his tongue.

"I can't fucking believe this," Rick continues, but he says it mainly to himself. He pinches the bridge of his nose and closes his eyes hard, trying to hold back an oncoming migraine. He doesn't know how to handle the situation. If Daryl was actually getting raped, he would go ahead and kill Negan without a second thought no matter the consequences. He's sure that everyone else would tag along if that was the fact. But no, this is all consensual. For once, he doesn't know how to handle a situation, for once he doesn't turn to violence first.

Daryl wants to apologize, but he knows it won't make anything better. So he stays quiet, drowning in guilt and self loathing.

"Just...just go." Rick turns away, unable to even look at the hunter anymore. Those are the only words he can say, Daryl can tell by the way the man's voice cracks. The hunter swears that Rick is starting to cry, but before he can see anything really happen, he's walking away.

Night's darkness is starting to take over, and as much as Daryl wants to leave the safety of the walls and take his anger out by hunting, he knows that everyone will flat out refuse to open the gates for him no matter what they say. He could just climb the walls and hop over, but something inside him is telling him not to. Part of him doesn't want to make Rick worry even more about him.

Sighing, he shakes his head and heads back home. No one is out on the street save for those keeping watch at the gate, everyone safely inside and getting ready to go to sleep.

Even when he gets home and lays down, he's overthinking too much, his mind racing a thousand miles per hour.

He ends up staring at nothing in the pitch black darkness all night long, not getting a wink of sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Day two of Daryl and Rick not saying a word to each other hits. Any tension that was there before their little talk increased tenfold, and now other people are starting to feel it. Daryl isn't a talkative person, but him and Rick usually say hello and goodbye to each other throughout the day. None of that has happened the past two days. The only thing close to interacting with each other is looking at one another when the other man's back is turned.

Rick feels anger, betrayal. But at the same time he still worries. It's eating up him inside and he doesn't know what to do or say to anyone.

But on the third night, Michonne speaks up to Rick while they're getting ready for bed.

"Rick." Michonne's voice is soft, cautious.

"Hm?" He makes a noise in response, spitting out the water from brushing his teeth into the sink.

"What's going on," She asks. It's a simple question that could relate to anything, but Rick knows exactly what she's talking about. Yet, he plays dumb.

"What do you mean? Nothing. It's fine." His voice is clipped, frustrated.

"You know what I mean." Michonne gets a more serious tone, her voice dropping an octave lower.

Rick sighs, and he washes off his toothbrush before placing it back in its holder. He turns to her, leaning on the sink behind him. He can already feel a headache coming on; pinching the bridge of his nose to try and stop it, but it's no use.

"When we went to go drop of supplies to Negan, he stayed behind two times so far," He explains, trying to stem his emotions. "I thought that bastard was hurting him, making him do things he didn't want to do. I told you about how he was covered in bruises, teeth marks."

"I remember." Michonne nods.

"Ends up that he wasn't forcing Daryl to do anything," Rick sighs, looking up at his lover. She gives him a puzzled look for a moment, then everything clicks into place and she gets a mixture of emotions on her face that Rick can't pinpoint what she's feeling.

"Daryl fucked Negan," Rick says crudely, and he hates how it sounds. Michonne can catch a hint of jealousy, but she puts it aside.

"I...shit." Michonne can't find the words to properly respond, running her hands through her dreadlocks, holding the back of her head.

"I don't know what the hell he's thinking." Rick's temper is starting to bubble to the surface, but his voice stays low. The last thing he wants is for Carl to hear him yelling about this and ask questions. Rick knows that other people in his group are starting to notice how he and Daryl are acting strange and avoiding each other, but he doesn't know how to explain it to anyone else. He does, but at the same time, he doesn't want to say it again. He doesn't want to talk about it. But, again, he's torn, because he wants to do something about it. All of these contradicting thoughts are making his headache even worse.

"I know this is an…odd situation." Michonne tiptoes carefully around her words, speaking slowly. "But like I said before, he'd come to us if he really needed help. I know Daryl, you know Daryl. He keeps a lot of his problems and feelings to himself, but we'd know if he really was in danger."

"But he killed Glenn! Right in front of us, Daryl saw it too, all of us watched!" Rick's voice gets louder, but he's not yelling just yet. He speaks in more of a frustrated whisper.

"You think I don't know that?" Michonne gets an edge to her voice, narrowing her eyes. She leans forward slightly, her demeanor and aura changing to something darker. "I know what he did, I was there too, Rick. We all felt helpless. We couldn't do anything to stop it or else he would have killed more of us."

Rick breathes slowly through his nose, trying to calm himself down.

"I'm confused by this, too. I don't know why he'd do this." Michonne stares at the floor, thoughts rushing through her mind left and right too quick for her to find one thing and focus on it. She still has trouble finding the correct words to say, because there isn't any. Nothing will console Rick right now, nothing will make him less irritated and as confused as she now feels.

"What if he kills Daryl?" Rick's voice drips with worry. Michonne can sense fear in his voice, and she finds that she'd been thinking the same thing as well. Rick just brought it up for the both of them.

"I don't know," She says, shaking her head. She feels helpless all over again, because she knows, Rick knows, how many people Negan has on his side. They both know that they'd be overpowered if they tried anything against Negan himself. Even if they push as hard as they can and try their best to defend themselves, more bad will come out of it than good.

A silence stretches on for a few minutes, thick with tense emotion. The world around them seems to stop, and the world feels confined to the small bathroom.

"I should have killed him the first time he came here. Should have killed him with his own bat." Rick regrets not doing it, but in the back of his mind he's reminded, again, of how overpowered all of them are.

"Let's just go to sleep," Michonne says, carefully grabbing Rick's hands. She sounds completely exhausted, all of the energy drained out of her from the conversation, of what she'd learned was happening. It's too much to process, and usually she'd be ready to fight back and do something, but tonight felt different, this whole situation is tricky and different, that she doesn't know exactly what to do or who to fight. She understands why Rick wants to kill Negan, she would herself if the opportunity represented itself. But Daryl is his own person, and she respects that. She doesn't think he was forced, at least by Rick's wording of it. She wants to hear it from Daryl herself, but the man is so closed off to everyone about talking about such things that she doubts that she'd get it out of him so easily.

"Alright." Rick gives in, and he allows her to guide him to the bed; climbing under the covers and cuddling up to each other.

Michonne kisses Rick, resting her forehead against his.

"Just try and get some sleep," She whispers. Rick sighs a quiet "okay" in response, holding her closer after she turns off the bedside lamp, leaving them engulfed in pitch black darkness.


End file.
